Two Ducks & A Cloud
by Chloroform
Summary: Chas wants to be strong for John, even when John won't let him close. SLASH. ChasxJohn.


**TITLE:** Two ducks and a cloud.  
**SUMMARY: **Chas wants to be strong for John, even when John won't let him close. SLASH. ChasxJohn.  
**RATING: **Some bad words. Otherwise, PG-13 is just dandy.

**x-posted to eljay comm. chastinelove. **

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"It's a bear though right? Or two ducks and a- two ducks and a cloud?"

Chas isn't expecting an answer - he's learned. Yeah, he sure took his time to do so but he got there eventually. He figures not to expect anything from Constantine, and - being Chas - did that without any kind of resentment. John was just John. Arrogant, pissy, stubborn; John.

Didn't make Chas any less persistent though.

"_Two frogs on a bench._" John says up ahead. The bouncer expressionlessly unlatches the rope and holds it up as John walks by, trench-coat billowing behind him in that dramatic sort of way that just reeks of comic-book nerd envy. Chas tries to follow but the doorman raises his arm, holding up the card John just read.

Chas smiles; the bouncer just blinks. Fiercely. They've done this before.

"Two frogs on a bench." Chas says coolly, walking after the exorcist. A giant hand over his chest propells him backwards before he's taken a full step.

"Nononono- I'm with the guy you just- _John! _Hey, _John!_" Chas calls out. He isn't expecting an answer - he's learned. When you have no expectations, you don't get disappointed. Chas thought that sounded a lot like something John would say, but it left a bitter kind of longing in his chest - a lot like most of the things John actually said.

"I'm with him, though." Chas protests, pointing at John's retreating back. The doorman shows Chas the card, and he sees it like it's the next three hours of his life. "Rat in a dress. 'Course it is. Rat in a dress." Chas mutters. He dives for the door after John, knows it's a lost cause, but the thought of going back out to the cab; the waiting, the staring at the sidewalk outside the bar, watching for any sign of a pissed-up and balance-impaired exorcist - probably with that whore sucking on his neck too - to drag himself out and yell 'Taxi!' and wave his arms around at Chas in a fashion that he must have thought was fucking _charming_ - it just made Chas want to do stupid things like run in there after him and-... and run in there after him. Chas never really entertained the idea of what he'd actually do once he got in there. He was more caught up in how it would actually feel to say, "I'm with him." And have John turn, cigarette clasped between his lips, and nod in affirmative, '_He's with me._' But that wasn't an expectation, it was just a dream, and dreams were okay to have. He wasn't John just yet.

They're eating take-out pizza and talking - something you have to resort to when you're like John and don't own a T.V set. Actually, eating take-out pizza and talking would be what Chas does; John smokes and endures with an appropriate jerk of the head every now and again.

"So tomorrow at noon I'll come pick you up and we'll go round to the Lawrence's place, right? Mrs. Lawrence said the chanting definitely wasn't Latin (she's a teacher at the high school on 45th); so that makes me think we're dealing with-"

John's stare is deliberate and so is the way he is blinking slowly.

"_We._" He interrupts tritely, tendrils of smoke curling up from his lips. "A high school teacher? _Your_ current high school teacher by any chance? You're waiting in the cab."

And Chas can tell from his tone that today isn't going to be the day that he brings John around, that he opens John's eyes to the fact that he isn't a child and he hasn't been a child since the day he met him. It doesn't make sense, he knows John has to be aware of him, of how he's grown and how he can cope. This 'you're a child, I'm a grown-up' excuse is bullshit, and the look Chas throws at John in response tells the man that they both know it. John can't keep his stare and pretends to be fascinated with the flick of his lighter as it closes, concentrates on replacing it in his pocket. Chas smiles a little, he doesn't say anything when John finally looks up and fixes him with a hard stare. He let's John think he has won, _this time._

Chas is anxious as Hell. His bag of twizzlers has long since diminished and only one remains, Chas curls it around his fingers repeatedly until it snaps and checks the rear-view mirror again for any sign of John. Two hours he's been waiting there. Two God damned hours waiting in the cab. It wasn't supposed to take this long, routine exorcisms aren't even twenty minutes long when you've been in the game as long as John has. Chas drums on the steering wheel and considers his options. He could go in there and risk the wrath of John for interrupting something really complex. He could wait a little longer in the cab. He could go home and call the cute girl who gave him her number when he bought his red liquorice, take her to see a movie, like normal guys did. Chas gets out of the cab, he doesn't want to consider why that cute girl doesn't draw him in the way John does.

He doesn't get far; a few paces away from the entrance to the elevators, when there's a familiar ragged coughing from the stair-well. Chas is running before he can even think, he throws the door open and kneels down beside the fallen excorsist. John sits with his arms braced on his knees, waiting for the coughing fit to ease. As it does, Chas exhales a breath he didn't realise he'd kept in and knows that he's gone white with fear. John couldn't _breathe_. He's ignored it for too long already, pushed it away, distracted himself, but it's all too clear that John isn't getting better. It fills Chas with that same bitter longing that he's become accustomed to since he met John. Silently, he scoots up next to him and strokes his back soothingly, marvelling when John's head falls to rest on his shoulder.

"It's cancer." John says. _Way to ruin a moment_, Chas thinks briefly. But he hears all the things John doesn't, - _can't -_ say in the silence that follows. He swallows hard past a lump in his throat and nods because he thinks that if he speaks he'll cry at how unfair it all seems. John gestures vaguely to upstairs;

"Took me five times as long as it used to, just because I couldn't fuckin' breathe, Chas."

Chas wants John to stop talking because it _hurts_ to hear him sound so... so broken. But he can't articulate because he wants John to think he's strong enough to deal with this, he wants John to not have to cope on his own with it all, so he rakes his fingers through John's hair and smiles a little as the man welcomes the touch.

"It's okay." He manages, not knowing what he's talking about anymore, the touch, the cancer, the words that pressed in on them both that were desperate to be said if only the circumstances were different. He doesn't know how he hasn't been overwhelmed by it all yet, perhaps it's just the absolute rightness about the way John feels in his arms, or the desire to be strong for them both.

"Yeah it's okay." John says with a hitch in his breath that belies his emotions as he pulls Chas's arms tighter around himself. "Chas, everything I touch turns to shit-"

He stops to look up at the boy - no, the man - and Chas' breath catches again at the intensity of the stare he's fixed with, "You can't turn into me. It'd hurt me too damn much to see you go the same way."

Neither of them have ever been any good at this talking about what was going on between them. John too proud and Chas too inexperienced. But Chas knows that he's having a conversation he's going to remember forever. John's cinnamon and smoke scent, the heat of his body radiating through the fabric of his thin white shirt, the remarkable softness of his hair, yeah, Chas knows it'll all be with him forever. His sentences are important, and damn it, he wishes they'd come out without shaking.

"I understand John."

Chas likes that. That was a good thing to say. He likes the way John puts his head back on his shoulder, it encourages him to continue;

"I know as well that you can't protect me anymore. It doesn't matter how many times I wait in the car for you John, because at the end of the day I'm still waiting."

Metaphors. Chas isn't sure he likes that as much, but John doesn't mind as he has taken to toying with the edge of Chas' jacket. Deep breath;

"You tried. But I fell for you anyway. So, tell me John, are we going to both be fucking miserable until-" He stops, horrified that he didn't see the phrase coming and trying to think of something to say instead. Saying it makes it real all over again.

"Until I snuff it." John supplied, non-plussed. "I think that was the phrase. Go on."

Chas only flounders for a second,

"...Or, can we at least enjoy your time?"

John looks up at him without lifting his head, and Chas struggles with an urge to lean down and kiss the top of his head.

"If this is you trying to not stay in the car anymore Chas, I swear exorcisms aren't my idea of a good time." John says, tone good-natured.

"No John, I'm serious. Look at me. Serious face."

John does look.

Chas blushes.

"I am serious. But I want to hear you say it."

Chas' blush deepens, to John's delight.

"God that's cute. Tell me."

Chas slides his hand up John's back to rest at his nape as he tilts his head and covers the man's mouth with his own, tongue flicking out against lips that quickly part in welcome. Chas always imagined - and yeah, he guessed he could admit to that now (hey, he had plenty of time waiting in the cab to think of these things) - he always thought John's tongue would taste of cigarettes or smoke. It was only logical, after all. He's pleased that he was wrong, pleased with the noise that escapes John's throat, just... pleased. As they break apart for much needed oxygen he peppers quick kisses across John's jaw, the hair on the back of his neck standing to attention as John's hot breath ghosts across his throat.

"Or show me." Comes the mumbled response.

He feels dizzy, but in the best possible way. Doesn't even care when there's a cough of indignation and he glances up to see a pissy looking guy wanting to get up the stairs. John's recovery is quick as he tugs Chas to his feet and they walk by, John smirks a little. Chas is glad that John has his arm around him because this dizziness just doesn't seem to fade.

Chas drives them back to John's apartment - _their_ apartment, it's probably time to admit that - and on the way he finds himself unable to stop looking at John. It's like seeing him, being entranced by him, for the first time all over again. It sends his heart racing every time he glances in the mirror to see John already staring at him.

Chas knows that someday he's going to have to deal with John not being there. Someday. But it isn't today, and so long as it isn't today, Chas will cope. He'll have to make as many memories as he can with John, even though he doesn't think that could ever be enough. He'll face it when it comes, he tells himself, while praying he never has to.

FIN


End file.
